


Fair Trade Hugs

by BlanketFortAvenger



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Coffee Shops, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Complete, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff without Plot, Good Peter Hale, Hugs, Jealous Peter Hale, M/M, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Peter Hale Needs a Hug, Possessive Peter Hale, Short One Shot, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Stiles Stilinski is Eighteen Years Old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlanketFortAvenger/pseuds/BlanketFortAvenger
Summary: Stiles starts selling his hugs to buy fair trade coffee, but 'someone' finds a way to stop him. So, Stiles hits back with some of that r/maliciouscompliance. If Peter wants to play by the rules, then he's going to have to play by Stiles' rules.





	Fair Trade Hugs

It starts off, as a way to feed his college caffeine-deficiency. It becomes a way to feed his college cuddle-deficiency.

Stiles pulled on a t-shirt that had been shoved to the back of his closest for the better part of two years, and paired it with a pair of clean, ragged, grey sweatpants. It was laundry day. Something about the soft, pink ‘Free Hugs’ t-shirt apparently made him irresistible.

On campus, Stiles’ favourite place between classes is the pop-up coffee stand by the library. It’s where all the tired, despairing individuals tend to loiter. Free wifi, and reasonably priced, fair trade, Peruvian dark roasts, meant it is a hot-spot for the stressed and sleep-deprived. While caffeine is a remedy for the latter of those things, there’s nothing that can de-stress like a good hug. So, after a day of having been half-jokingly asked for cuddles, Stiles had seen the most desperate demands of an untapped market. As a near-on touch-starved, college student himself, it was a demand Stiles was grateful to meet.

He opens his arms with a ‘take it or leave it’ shrug, and the adorable first-year falls into him, as her friends giggle behind her. It’s awkward at first, but eventually, she sighs, and they both relax. She squeezes him tight before she pulls away. Stiles waves as she runs back to her friends, her smile ten times brighter than when she’s approached him.

 

“Why do you smell like different people’s sweat,” Scott asks, almost as soon as Stiles steps through the door of the loft. “…and tears?”

“Best years of our lives”. Stiles shrugs, setting himself up in the seat closest to the door. He wasn’t planning on staying long. It was just a routine pack-meeting, as far as he was aware. That, and lately the ‘wolves were only looping him in for the important stuff. He had a suspicion that his best friend was fielding supernatural crises, so that they didn’t interfere with Stiles’ studies. Of course, this meant less time spent around his friends, and subsequently, less of the usual werewolf tactility.

Stiles flinches when a warm hand lands on the back of his neck, and squeezes muscle-meltingly. Stiles hangs his head back, as Peter lets go, walking around the settee to take a seat opposite.

“Why do you smell like you were groped by a college basketball team?” Despite his usual sardonic tone, Peter looks even less amused than usual. Stiles crosses his arms over his t-shirt’s slogan a little self-consciously.

“Because they lined up, and asked nicely?”

That night, Stiles takes a sharpie to a soft, distressed-cotton tee, fresh from the dryer. With his peers’, and his own, financial situations in mind, he writes, ‘Cheap Hugs’.

 

Two weeks later, and Stiles hasn’t had to pay for his own coffee since. Every five hugs will buy him a tall cup of that dark, liquid gold, with fifty percent of the profits going back to deserving Peruvian communities. Stiles is now more colloquially known as, Saint Stilinski.

Some of his customers aren’t the sweetest smelling, and he occasionally gets wept on, but most hugs are seven seconds of instant relief. It’s like a werewolf pain-drain for the soul.

No one says anything anymore when he turns up at pack meetings, smelling like a crowded bus, with ones stuffed into his clothes like a stripper. However, Peter does stare at him the whole time, with the kind of motionlessness that can only mean that he’s desperate to move, and he’s having to hold himself still. Stiles thinks it’s the amount of strangers’ scents that it might unsettle the older ‘wolf. Saying that, it’s Derek’s loft, and he doesn’t seem to mind – as much.

 

Just when Stiles thinks that college life couldn’t get any more relaxed, he gets slapped with a ‘cease and desist’ and a firm talking to about solicitation laws in California. While the college isn’t too concerned about the arguability of said laws, it was brought to their attention that Stiles’ endeavours did come with unaddressed liability and taxation issues. In the end, Stiles just wanted to know, which faculty member had reported him – because they’d probably be his biggest customer.

“What are you doing?” Peter asks, as Stiles sits on the loft’s living-room floor using the coffee table to sign his name on some paperwork. Peter takes a seat on the settee behind him, and nudges Stiles with a socked-foot.

“I’m filling out a CT-one and an FTB 35hundred”. The foot retreats.

“An FTB 3500 is a tax exemption form,” Peter sighs.

“Yu-p”. Stiles continues filling out the forms, but creases his brow when Peter doesn’t ask him to elaborate. He was sure that the ‘wolf would have been curious about his latest endeavours in finding loopholes. Especially, with his former work as a lawyer. Instead, Peter sounds – disappointed.

That night, Stiles pulls his ‘Free Hugs’ tee back out from the back of his closet. He takes his sharpie, and underneath the slogan he writes, ‘With Every Coffee’.

 

Getting the people who own the coffee stand to agree to act as his commercial coventurer, was a piece of cake. Over the last few weeks, they had noticed how much business Stiles had been drumming up, and were delighted to collaborate. Now, Stiles was officially acting as a second party charity to their business. Anyone who bought a coffee got a free hug, and those who didn’t partake in coffee would receive a hug upon a donation. Half of coffee proceeds still went to Peruvian farmers, but Stiles arranged all hug proceeds to go to Peruvian children shelters. In exchange for his volunteering, Stiles now received all his coffee on the house.

Stiles feels good about what he’s doing. Better than he ever did before, when it was just a way to get coffee and de-stress. Helping his fellow students was gratifying. Helping children, orphans, become students was downright heart-warming. As a girl with a sweaty upper-lip wipes it on his shoulder, Stiles thinks that there’s no way Peter can be disappointed with him now.

 

Peter avoids his gaze the whole meeting. Stiles knows, because he glares at him the whole meeting. Stiles isn’t fishing for praise, he isn’t doing these things, because it looks good. He just can’t bear the thought that he’s somehow caused Peter to think less of him. He doesn’t greet Stiles as he enters anymore, doesn’t brush their shoulders together, or clasp a hand around the back of his neck. Stiles knows that Peter has heard of his deeds, if only because Scott is so proud of his best friend that the whole town now knows. Sure, Peter hasn’t got the best moral perspective, but Stiles knows him better now. Knows that, as stone-hearted as he can be, Peter isn’t so cruel to snub someone for helping children. Especially, for seemingly no reason what-so-ever.

Stiles is one of the last to leave the loft that night, he had busied himself with miscellaneous things while everyone else had left one-by-one, hoping Peter might strike up a conversation. He gives up. Walking to the door, Stiles offers a weak salutation. He rests his hand on the handle, pausing, giving Peter time to say something before he left – anything.

“Okay then,” he whispers. When suddenly, there’s heat at his back, and hands on his shoulders. Two thumbs dig into his back muscles, massaging gently and familiarly. A breath tickles his ear, Peter having leaned closer.

“Stiles,” Peter whispers.

“Yu-p?” Stiles’ heart is racing, as he leans back into the touch.

“Don’t drink too much coffee. It’s bad for you”. Then, cold air is rushing down his back, as the heat pulls away. Stiles turns to see Peter walking into the kitchen. Disappointed, confused, and aroused, Stiles leaves the loft, and drives home.

 

The next day, when Stiles gets out of his 9am lecture, at twenty to 11, he decides that he really needs a coffee – and a hug. He’s walking over to the coffee stand, when he spots a familiar face sat on one of the sun-drenched settees. The other college students are eyeing Peter in equal measures of lust and wariness, none of them sure about the consequences of hitting on a professor. Stiles walks straight up to the ‘wolf, who’s sipping his coffee, and sits down beside him. Stiles immediately notices the five or so empty cups on the coffee table. Two of them have ‘Peter’ scrawled on the side, before the barista had evidently just given up.

“I thought, too much coffee was bad for a person”. Peter huffs into his cup, before tipping his head back and draining the last of it.

"That doesn't apply to me". Peter pulls off his sunglasses, and turns to look at Stiles. “Anyway, it’s not really the coffee I’m interested in”. Peter’s voice drops, as if admitting a sin. He hands Stiles a crisp twenty. "I'd like to buy all your hugs". Stiles rolls his eyes, but a smile makes his lips tremble. 

"That's not how donations work, Peter". Peter pulls out an honest-to-god roll of banknotes. Stiles gawks.

"I can do this all, well, forever". Peter grins. It hits Stiles suddenly, that Peter had been waiting for him. That Peter had come here for him. Stiles laughs and blushes at the same time.

“So, do you want one long hug, or several short ones?” Stiles says, brushing a hand across Peter’s shoulders, and leaning forward to wrap his arms around the other man. Peter’s response comes in the form of a heavy sigh, and all the tension that Stiles hadn’t noticed before, bleeding from his muscles.

“One long one”. Peter breathes into Stiles’ hair, as his arms come up around Stiles’ middle to embrace him gently. “Don’t want anyone else to touch you. That children’s shelter can buy every child there a doctorate degree, I’ll make it happen. Just, don’t ever stop”.

“Well, aren’t you just the philanthropist?” Stiles chuckles, breathlessly, before lifting his face to Peter’s. Embracing as they are, their faces are so close. Stiles takes a second to rub his cheek affectionately against the 'wolf's, realising that all this time, Peter’s issue hadn’t been with the scent, but with the fact that it had been on Stiles. “Y’know,” Stiles licks his lips, and catches Peter’s focus narrow in on them. “Extra-charitable donators get a kiss”. Peter’s eyes flick back to Stiles’.

“How much?” He asks, desperately. Stiles' smile becomes one of knowing chastisement. 

“You can never again use your legal knowledge to interfere with my grey-area entrepreneurial endeavours,” Peter looks smugly hangdog about having his scheme discovered. Stiles lets his smile soften to let him know that he’s been forgiven. “…and you’ll have to always be there to hug me back”. Peter’s expression melts into one full of warmth. He leans in, even closer to Stiles, their lips brushing as he whispers.

“Sounds like a fair trade”. Stiles presses forward, their lips coming together in a kiss that is soft with desperate longing. Peter's arms tightening around Stiles.

That night, Stiles folds up his pink tee, and shoves it to the back of his closet.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a fairly short amount of time, and I don't feel the quality of pacing, or narration is my usual standard. I still really like the story though, and it makes me feel fluffy. Hope you enjoyed too, and thanks for reading.


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